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POEMS 



BY 



Blanche Goodman Eisendrath 



New York 

Bloch Publishing Company 

19 14 



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Copyright 1914 
By Blanche Goodman Eisendrath 



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JUN27I9I4 

©C1.A376C95 



WITH LOVE 
TO 

O. B. E. 



AUTHOR'S NOTE 

Thanks are due to the Editors of The 
Century, The Outlook, Collier's Weekly, 
The Delineator, Smart Set, The Jewish 
Exponent, The Chattanooga Daily Times, 
The American Israelite and other periodicals, 
for their courtesy in allowing the poems 
published by them to be reprinted in this 
volume. 

B. G. E. 

Philadelpliia. May. 1914. 



CONTENTS 

Page 

To Thee 9 

Only We Aged Know . . . . .10 

A Toast . . . . . .11 

Inertia . . . . . . .12 

Au Revoir . . . . . .13 

A Weakling's Plaint . . . . .14 

Humanity . . . . . .15 

The Dream Goddess . . . . .16 

The Mask . . . . . .17 

A Preface . . . . . .18 

Old Maidenhood . . . . . 19 

The Secret . . . . . .20 

Dawn . . . . . . .21 

Jasmine . . . . . . .22 

The Commonplace ..... 24 

A Road Song . . . . . .25 

A German Legend ..... 26 

Recompense . . . . . .28 

To Poesy . ..... 29 

Odessa-Casablanca . . . . .30 

To Hugo . . . . . .31 

The Scientist . . . . . .32 

The Eyes of Love ..... 33 

The Gift 34 

Growth ...... 35 



The Stricken Oak . . . . .36 

Julian, the Hellenist ..... 38 

The Poet's Desiie . . . . .39 

To a Cast of Her Hands .... 40 

Our Dreams . . . . . .41 

Un vanquished ...... 42 

October . . . . . .43 

A Rejoinder ...... 44 

A Mood 45 

Why Wait Until the End? .... 46 

The Ideal 47 

There is a Room ..... 48 

A Silver Anniversary . . . . .50 

Wake up, Sweetheart . . . . .51 

The Ballad of the Black Silk Dress . . .52 

? 54 

Destiny . . . . . . .56 

The Bachelor's Den . . . . .57 

Ballade of Defense . . . . .60 

Sez I to Taft ...... 62 

On Mr. G. B. Shaw 64 

His Unlucky Day ..... 65 

The Candy Shop . . . . .67 

A Mystery Explained ..... 70 

A Sad Story 73 

When Pa Fergot ..... 75 

"My Maw" 77 



POEMS 



TO THEE 

Ere I had glimpsed the light of day 

Soft melodies pulsed through your brain. 

And in my soul responsive found 
An echo for each sweet refrain. 

And as lost treasures in the sea 

Upon the strand sometimes are cast, 

So, mayhap, in these pages dwell • 
Your melodies from out the past. 



(^ 



ONLY WE AGED KNOW 

Only we aged know the pang that lies 

In the soft spring days, when the dappled bloom 
Of hedge and forest yields a vague perfume 

That subtly stirs the heart like melodies 
Once heard, but ne'er forgotten. Only we 

Have caught, within the wild bird's lilting strain, 
A poignant echo haunting the refrain, 

So sweet, so moumful^ — like a threnody 
Of joys exquisite, blent with suffering. 

Only we aged know the peuig of spring ! 



10 



A TOAST 

Let him who will drink to his love, 
Or pledge a friend in wine, 

A rousing toast I'll give to thee, 
O Enemy of mine. 

Pour forth the amber liquid, fill 

Your glasses to the brim ; 
Here's to the man whose heart for me 

Bears naught but hatred grim. 

How oft, when steep ascent I climb 
Would I cast down my load. 

Did not his royal enmity 
My lagging footsteps goad. 

So drink again, your bumpers raise 

And gaily clink with me. 
Here's to the man that hates me well - 

Down with Mine Enemy ! 



11 



INERTIA 

What compensation thine ! Within thy thrall 
Where men say idle fancy reigns supreme, 

Newton beheld the rosy apple's fall ; 

And by green banks of Avon's drowsy stream 

His reverie blending with its pleasant brawl, 
Methinks the boy Shakespeare did lie adream. 



12 



AU RE VOIR 
To P. G. 

There are some moments in the drifting years 
That lie too deep for spoken word or sign ; 
Only through spirit - kinship we divine 

That which the listening, inner spirit hears. 

The final hour for our parting nears, 

One more farewell— hands close enfolding mine — 
Unuttered prayers that our full hearts enshrine — 

A brave look smiling through a mist of tears. 

O fadeless, poignant intervals that mark 

The shadowy years ! Your radiance we discern 
Like distant worlds that in the heavens bum, 

Flashing their signals to us down the dark. 
You seem to vision some far, sunlit plain, 
Holding the promise " Till we meet again ! " 



13 



IHE WEAKLING'S PLAINT 

God is so far, our wailing and our prayers 

Seem lost in space like the lost dust of stars ; 
God is so blind or could he see and bear 

Our tears upon Fate's unrelenting bars ? 
God is so silent. Like a drowning wretch 

We cling to Faith^ — a solitary spar, 
And send our cries unanswered o'er the waste. 

God is so blind, so silent and so far. 



14 



■^ 



HUMANITY 

O thou that from a shapeless thing 

But scarce endowed with vibrant life didst spring 
In countless ages past ! 

That like a plant excluded from the light 
Hast struggled upward from the grasp 

Of cJl-embracing night 
To face the sun of Progress ! 

Tho* at times 
Thy climbing hath seemed vedn 

And thou hast scaled the heights 
But to fall back again, 

Blood-covered, bruised, yet still 
Persistent in thy might, 

Thou hast arisen and resumed the fight. 
Blindly obedient to a Force within 

Implanted by a mightier One without, 
Urging thee on to win ! 



15 



THE DREAM GODDESS 

From the far Summerland she comes, 
More fair than flowers are fair, 

And wreaths of death-sweet poppies breathe 
The fragrance of her hair. 

Only to him once known of Love 

She croons with tender smile, 
And with her lilied fingers soothes 

His aching heart the while. 

Down, down upon his eyelids pale 

Her poppies fall like rain ; 
And in the dreams they bring he sees 

His old love's face cigain. 



16 



THE MASK 

(To George Bernard Shaw) 

Came Truth, grave messenger of Deity, 

Facing the multitude, calm-eyed, serene. 
"Silence ! " His ringing tone and fearless mien 

Compel the eager throng, as wonderingly 
They gaze. Perchance some new buffoonery 

To draw their laughter or their jests obscene. 
But list — his words arose their vengeance keen. 

And "Stone him ! Stone him ! " loudly swells the cry. 

Bruised and heartsore through a wood flees Truth, 
"Don this ! '* Tis the king's jester whispers low, 

Doffing his coat of motley, "then forsooth, 

Mayest claim the ready ear of friend or foe ! " 

And Truth with bitter insight now grown wise. 
The cap and bells has chosen as his guise. 



17 



A PREFACE 

When the song came I sang, nor questioned whence 

Nor why the melody. I only know 
The music thrilled me, and responsive chords 

Trembled with something half akin to joy 
And half to pain, as tho' two spirits stood 

Beside me, alternating each with each, 
And swept the quivering strings to harmony. 



18 



OLD MAIDENHOOD 

Why must I bear my state as some vague shame 

Inviting mockery — this scorned name, 
I, who have been drawn love-ward as a flame 

Is sucked by mighty winds ? What ancient wrong 
Do the high gods avenge, that Life's fair song 

For me sounds but Life's minor chords among ? 
They say in heavenly fields of asphodel 

Mayhap I'll wander gathering blooms — ah well — 
Listen! This matchless thing my dreams befell: 

I sat before a hearthstone, slow caressed 
By a rough manly hand ; soft spoke we, lest 

There wake a babe close to my bosom pressed ! 



19 



THE SECRET 

Once on a midsummer's day 

When the South wind was still, 
The leaves gaily chattered, nor recked 

Of an eavesdropping rill. 
Merrily on through the glades 

Like a child filled with glee 
At filching a treasure, the rill 

Brought the secret to me. 

Ah ! now I know why the green forest 

Wields witchery, 
Invites me with fragrance of pine. 

Calls from flower and tree ; 
And he who would learn the full charm 

Of Dame Nature's spell 
Must seek her himself, for I'm sure 

That I'll never tell. 



20 



DAWN 

One eager lilting note 

From the uplifted throat 
Of a hedge bird, and behold ! 

Night, as tho' some celestial clock had tolled, 
Pauses, a Cinderella on the palace stair 

O* the world. Whist ! 
Her sumptuous robe falls from her form away, 

The fairy jewels vanish from her hair, 
And there she stands, a shivering wraith of gray, 

Clad in pale rags of mist. 



21 



JASMINE 

I thought I had forgotten, and the years 
Wearing away sharp anguish as a stream 

Wears smooth its stony channel, brought release. 
Even the mention of her name I leamed 

To bear with calmness and to pass unmoved 

Along familiar ways where once we strolled, 

* * * * ♦ 

And so I felt somehow secure at last. 

Tonight in the soft summer's gloom I sat. 

Where the white garden moths wheel round and round. 
A sleepy twittering from boughs o'erhead — 

Or the swift whirr of insects in the grass — 
Faint intermittent rustling of the leaves — 

The cricket's song — these were the only sounds 
That stole across the evening's calm content. 

Suddenly through the dusk a perfume blown 

From whence I know not — heavy, languorous, sweet — 



22 



Crept to me on the night wind, closed me in. 

And gripped my heart until I seemed to feel 
The blood ebb from its walls. God ! Once again 

Did Memory draw me backward o'er the years 
When in my arms one starlit summer eve 

I held her, mad with love, and kissed her hair 
And her soft throat from which the laces fell, 

Half burying in their folds a jasmine flower ! 



23 



THE COMMONPLACE 

God bless the commonplace ! We strain and fret 
Through wearisome and unproductive days, 
Striving to carve new destinies, or blaze 

A trail through unaccustomed lands. We let 

The feverish years possess us, and forget. 
In our tense seeking for untrodden ways, 
The common heritage, nor care to raise 

Altars to dear, familiar things — and yet 

When shadows lengthen and the busy hum 

Of life falls faintly on half-hearing ears. 
With vision dimmed and feeble step we come 

Back to the homely joys of bygone years — 
Love and a hearthstone and a dear, worn face. 

And through our tears we bless the commonplace ! 



24 



A ROAD SONG 

Look upon life as you will, lads, 
Whether as monarch or thrall. 

Love is the sum of it eJl, lads. 
Love is the sum of it all. 

Battle with life till you win, lads, 
Spurred by the world's bugle call. 

Love is the sum of it all, lads. 
Love is the sum of it all. 

Time is fast creeping along, lads, 
Joys that once beckoned shall pall, 

Save love — that's the sum of it all, lads, 
Love is the sum of it all. 

Then you will learn at the end, lads. 
When shadows enveloping fall. 

That love is the sum of it all, lads. 
Love is the sum of it edl. 



25 



A GERMAN LEGEND 

' Twas on the day the flowers were named ; 

They tripped through heaven's portals, 
A lightsome, fragrant, beauteous throng. 

To glad the hearts of mortals. 

' Twould seem as though in God's abode, 

Their going left a gloom, 
Albeit, in that shining sphere 

A shadow has small room. 

A silence fell but for a space ; 

No slightest whisper stirred ; 
When suddenly at heaven's gate 

A timid rap was heard. 

" Who knocks ?'* in vibrant tones rang forth. 

Tis I," the answer came 
In a soft, pleading voice. " Dear Lord, 
Please — I forgot my name ! " 



26 



And standing there without the gate, 

A tiny flower of blue 
With trembling petals, hung its head, 

And dropped a tear of dew. 

** Forgot thy name ? " A smile benign 

That dazzled like the sun, 
O'erspread the august countenance 

Of that most Radiant One. 

" Come hither, little flower," He spake, 
" Nay, weep not at thy lot — 

Henceforth the name that thou shalt bear 
Will be * Forget-me-not I * " 



27 



RECOMPENSE 

O God of Pain, what victories are thine ! 

Had Dante's soul encompassed its desire, 
Less resonant had been his glorious lyre, 

And lost to us the Comedy Divine. 



28 



TO POESY 

I hear her as one hears the distant chime 
Of bells borne sweetly, faintly from afar ; 

Soft peals of music ; broken chords that are 
Exquisite fragments of a theme sublime. 

And this — perchance *tis vain — this is the dream 
That will not down — that nestles in my heart : 

That some day I may know more than the part, 
That some day I may hear the perfect theme. 



29 



ODESSA - CASABLANCA 

And ye are called " The Chosen People" ! Ay, 
Chosen for suffering, *neath the mailed hand 

Of Persecution, while the nations stand 
And hear, unmoved, the cries of agony 

Wrung from your tortured lips, or prate of Peace, 
(Who silently with shame-averted head. 

Holds pleading hands outstretched o'er Israel's dead.) 

When shall the dark curse of oppression cease, 

O Thou Omnipotent, before whose sight 
A thousand years are reckoned as a day ? 

" Lo," saith a Voice, "ye shall behold the light 
When barriers reared by hatred fall away, 

When pity shall take precedence of creed. 
When justice rules the earth in place of greed. 

When universal brotherhood holds sway ! " 



30 



TO HUGO 

(Upon reading his "Study of Shakespeare.") 

As light'ning flash 'midst thunder crash 

Illumes some rugged headland bold, 
That dauntless towers above the wave 

Like monarch of Titanic mould, 
So to my startled vision thou 

Revealed one peerless 'mongst all men ; 
And while to him I, rev*renl, bow, 

No less my homage to THY pen. 



31 



THE SCIENTIST 

A bold knight-errant he, of Truth ; 

All else seemed false as necromancy ; 
Yet o'er his heart they found at death 

A faded blossom culled from Fancy. 



32 



THE EYES OF LOVE 

" Dear Time," she plead, "My beauty wanes ; 

A boon 1 crave from thee ; 
' Tis this : that in my true love's eyes 

I'll ever comely be." 

Time smiled, " I'll grant it thee," and then 

Because it pleased his whim, 
He touched her lover's eyes until 

They grew a little dim. 

And tho' her cheeks have withered. 

And her tresses turned to snow. 
He deems her fair as when they wed 

Some fifty years ago. 



33 



THE GIFT 

I asked of Fate the simplest gift — 
A common flower that blows 

Upon the mead, or by the hedge — 
Fate plucked for me a rose. 

And what for all its beauty 
And its fragrance do I care ? 

It was the daisy that I craved, 
And not the rosebud rare. 



34 



GROWTH 

He who would rise to fairer heights 
Above the realms of sloth, 

Let him resolve to suffer pain — 
The spirit's law of growth. 

Nor let him gaze ynlh. envy 
On the well-contented clod ; 

The joy of victory ne'er was his 
Who ne'er life's highways trod. 



35 



THE STRICKEN OAK 

Riven by merciless lightening 

Blasted, I stand, 
I, who was once hailed as monarch 

Of the woodland. 
All in one death dealing moment 

Shorn of my power ; 
Lost to my being forever 

Its kingly dower. 

Great Zeus ! Ah, give me your pity 

I but implore 
Respite from taunts of my comrades. 

Craving no more. 
How long in agony must I 

Rear my cleft head. 
Leafless 'mongst verdant companions. 

Living yet dead ? 



36 



Why with your powerful weapons 

Did you not smite 
This blackened corpse into earth 

Far from the light ? 
No more will blithe trilling songsters 

Nestle in me, 
Nor perfumed zeph)n:s swing incense 

To my majesty. 

Naught but the sneers of my people 

Does the wind bring. 
Will I bide ever amongst them 

Like some accursed thing? 
Oh, plunge me deep in my forest 

Under the sod. 
Or burn me to ashes — in mercy 

Hear me, storm god ! 



37 



JULIAN THE HELLENIST 

Pagan ! On whose inclined ecu: the call 

Of ancient Hellas and her glories fell 
Clear as the intonations of a bell, 

Holding thy spirit in its deathless thrall ; 
In love didst thou essay to greisp and mould 

The beauty and traditions of the past 
Into a purer, nobler form, and cast 

Anew the worship of the gods of old. 

Thy hopes were not in vain, what tho are gone 
Olympian halls, and ncuads of the stream. 

The forest glade, where dryad and blithe faun 
Disported with their laughing eyes agleam — 

Nay, long as time endures shall Greece live on, 
Her dream be interwoven with our dream ! 



38 



THE POET'S DESIRE 

I, with day-long imagining 

May dream I am a mighty king, 
A child enrapt in playtime's bliss, 

A lover drunken with a kiss, 
A hero crowned with wreath of fame 

A vestal at the sacred flame, — 
God ! But for one brief hour TO BE 

That which inspires my minstrelsy ! 



39 



TO A CAST OF HER HANDS 

Great Phidias wrought such wondrous lines of grace 

The spark of life glows through th' impassive stone, 
Or so it seems. Though centuries have flown. 

That classic beauty time can ne'er efface ; 
And Angelo, the noblest of his race, 

Fused his soul with marble — verily, 
A wondrous pair through all eternity. 

Fit occupants these twain of Fame's broad dais. 

But here before me making glad mine eyes. 

Are faithful replicas sent from afar. 
More than all ancient marbles do I prize 

Each tiniest impress, every cross or star. 
For Love, great sculptor of all times and lands 

Speaks to me through this impress of Her hemds. 



40 



OUR DREAMS 

Only our dreams are lasting. What we deem 

Fulfillment bides but for a day. 
Only the striving to behold a gleam 

Of some far, radiant star, shall live alway. 



41 



THE UNVANQUISHED 

Think not to conquer her whom men call Fate 

By suppliant hands, nor by thy futile tears. 
Where pity dwells not, can prayers penetrate ? 

Thy cries are unavailing to deaf ears. 
He only is her peer — cind more than peer- — 

Who meets Fate's stinging blows unflinchingly. 
Till grudgingly she yields him, half in fear 

And half in sullen hate, the mastery. 



42 



OCTOBER 

Swift from the far North, gleaming sword in hand. 
Last night caune Boreas, Winter's eldest born ; 
And Summer lying prone this Autumn mom, 

Stains crimson with her blood the forest land. 



43 



A REJOINDER 

Say not the sweetest songs have all been sung — 

Who knows where endeth Fancy's wide domain ? 
May not heights once attained be reached again ? 

Did music die with those whose tones, far-flung 
Through Time, like silver clarions have rung ? 

If the flame fail upon the sacred fane 
Of Poesy, shall melody remain 

Forever voiceless, and our lutes unstrung? 

O ye that vaunt the glories of the past. 

The power that gave them being, bideth still. 

As long as the ennobling passions thrill 
The heart — aye, long as life shall last, 

And the poet's soul with ecstacy be wrung. 
Say not the sweetest songs have all been sung. 



44 



A MOOD 

Oh, to live as a plant or tree ! 

To feel the rush of juices in the Spring, 
To bask in the warm sunshine. 

To bend with each passing breeze. 
To question nothing, 

To live without thought or care for the morrow. 
To sleep the long, long sleep of Winter 

And feel as in a dream 
The beating of the storm against trunk and limb, 

And when all's done 
To be resolved once more into the elements ! 



45 



WHY WAIT UNTIL THE END ? 

Why wait until the end ? Bring flowers today. 

What are the blossoms o'er th' insensate dead 

But dumb reminders of love left unsaid, 

Impotent tributes to a thing of clay ? 

Not all their garnered beauty can outweigh 

The value of one tiny bud that sped 

Its fragrant message ere the soul had fled — 

Why wait until the end ? Bring flowers today. 



46 



THE IDEAL 

I am the measure of each man's desire — 
Ay, more. Of life itself I sim the breath ; 

Pursued, 't is I who beckon mortals higher, 
Encompass me, and lo ! my name is Death. 



47 



THERE IS A ROOM 

" Happiness consists of four feet on a fender." 

There is a room within my heart 
That none may know but I — 

I and that Other One for whom 
The years glide swiftly by. 

Bright bums the fire in the hearth, 

Upon the fender lie 
Four shoes that speak the presence of 

That Other One and I. 

And dreamily we watch the flames 
Close leaning, cheek to cheek ; 

Love's silences hold so much more 
Than ever lips can speak. 

Wild blows the Winter v^nd without, 
Like some strange human cry. 

And closer draw we, each to each. 
That Other One and I. 



48 



Oh, chilling, wintry winds may blow 
And whimper through the night. 

And storms may beat against the pane, 
Nor e'er us twain afhright. 

There is a room within my heart 
That none may know but I — 

I and that Other One for whom 
The years glide swiftly by. 



49 



A SILVER ANNIVERSARY 

(To B. B. and C. B.) 

As Love adown life's highway strolled 

He spied two hearts so brave and true, 
So wondrous mated, that he paused 

And pierced them with one arrow through. 
And o'er a flame of kindly thoughts, 

And noble acts, and gracious speech 
He held the twain, until at length 

He slowly fused them, each in each. 

And lo ! An emblem now appears 

In token of life's highest joy ; 
A milestone built of faith and love 

And free from every base alloy. 
May naught but happiness for you 

And yours, the distant years enfold, 
When then, we'll drink as we do now, 

A health to wedded hearts of gold I 



50 



"WAKE UP, SWEETHEART!" 

"Wake up, sweetheart ! " With drowsy-lidded eyes 
From which the dreams have scarce been brushed 
away, 

His chfldish gaze fades from a vague dismay 
To happy faith in mother-love's surprise. 

What greater boon than this : that when we start 

From our last sleep, facing Eternity, 
Once more as in our childhood it may be 

To that well loved cry, "Wake up, sweetheart ! ** 



51 



THE BALLAD OF THE BLACK SILK DRESS 

Oi frocks Belinda has a score, 

In which to drive or call or dine ; 
Her evening gowns, some ten or twelve. 

Are marvels wrought in texture fine. 
Eight tailored suits her wardrobe boasts; 

She vows she cannot do with less, 
Alack-a-day ! The simple life 

Has vanished with the black silk dress ! 

With what delight does one recall 

Its rustling widths and surface sleek ; 
In quality it had no peer 

('Twas grosgreiin or moire auitique). 
From year to year its style endured ; 

No fashion, fickle to excess, 
Was powerful enough to rout. 

In days of yore, the black silk dress ! 



52 



How numerous its uses were ! 

It served for luncheon, tea or ball, 
For opera or for a dance. 

For shopping or to pay a call — 
In spite of what Belinda says 

About my taste I must confess 
A wish to resurrect again 

The all-sufficing black silk dress. 

L*Envoi 

Ye devotees that oscillate 

*Twixt various modes, from lithe princesse 
To Empire fashion, all your gowns 

I'd barter for the black silk dress ! 



53 



What grim and subtle humor prompted this ? 

On the same day they died — the friend I loved, 
She o'er whose silvered hair the weight of years, 
Three score and ten, rested right graciously. 
Albeit, Pain long since had set his stamp 
Upon her patient body, when I looked 
My last upon that dear, familiar face 
Thinking to see his cruel sovereignty. 
Linked with that of Time's, writ large thereon. 
Age had somehow slipped from her easily 
As when a garment that is loosely worn 
Falls from the one that doffs it. Lo ! I gazed 
Upon the peaceful features of a child. 

The other one, a little negro babe, 
Youngest of those that dwelt, a joyous brood. 



54 



In a poor cabin near me. Scarce had he 

The taste of life against his palate when 

His spirit leaped the confines of the Wall. 

Upon his tiny black face there appeared 

All ancient Egypt's wisdom. Did a spell 

Rest on those moveless lids and weigh them down, 

Lest that his eyes betray the Mystery ? 

What grim and subtle humor prompted this ? 



55 



DESTINY 

** 'Tis here and here," the spider plans, 
"1*11 stretch my dwelling's silken strands," 

And carefully the thread she draws 

From point to point with scarce a pause. 

Swish ! goes the housemaid's busy broom. 
And web and spider meet their doom. 



56 



THE BACHELOR'S DEN 

When the cares of existence perplex me, 

And life seems an indigo blue, 
When all things conspire to vex me, 

Until I scarce know what to do, 
I have a way of dispelling the feeling 

That threatens my mind's peace, for then 
Up the back stairs I softly go stealing. 

And bury myself in my den. 

It isn't a bower of beauty — 

This comer beloved of my heart ; 
Its fittings are strictly for duty. 

And have no pretensions to art. 
Just a plain leather couch and a table, 

A desk and a large easy chair. 
Which I think I deservedly label, 

** The pride of the bachelor's lair." 



57 



The ashes of fragrant Havanas 

Impart to the air a perfume 
That a help-meet with housewifely manners 

Would rout with disgust from the room. 
On the walls photographs reminiscent 

Of conquests are scattered galore ; 
A blue bow on one that's sufficient 

To waken regrets I thought o*er. 

Old memories come crowding about me 

As the air becomes hazy with smoke 
The girl on the wall seems to flout'me, 

I could almost imagine she spoke. 
With her sweet roguish smile and a dimple 

Whose witchery calls back the past, 
Do you wonder that I grew quite simple 

0*er such charms and thought they would last ? 

With a sigh half regret and half pleasure, 
I stretch farther back in my chair. 



58 



Was I wrong in not taking the measure 
That marriage would mete? Do I care 

That she showed for my rival more feeling 
And wed him ? Well, scarcely, for then 

Up the back stairs I couldn't go stealing 
And bury myself in my den. 



59 



BALLADE OF DEFENSE 

We'll admit our gowns frequently are 

(Just for argument's sake, let us say) 
In cut — well, a trifle bizarre. 

And in color, perchcince, somewhat gay. 
That our hats against which men inveigh 

Are freakish — our coiffures are, too ; 
Still, if we should keep fashion at bay, 

What then would the humorist do ? 

We are told that we've carried too far 

Our worship of "fads for a day" 
In donning the slim directoire 

And slave-like accepting its sway. 
If, instead of our present array. 

In the garb of Priscilla and Prue 
We should sensibly clothe ourselves, pray. 

What then would the humorist do ? 



60 



No doubt that our foibles do jar 

And the all but preposterous way 
That we follow the fashions and mar 

The curves artists love to portray 
May drive art to death and decay. 

Yet benefits still must accrue; 
For if common sense we should obey 

What then would the humorist do ? 

Envoi 

All ye that our vagaries flay, 
These lines are indited to you ! 

Pure charity prompts our display, 
Else what would the humorist do ? 



61 



SEZ I TO TAFT 

Sez I to Taft, "Of course I'm not intendin' to make flings 
At this administration, an' aint criticisin' things, 

But 'pears, ez hir ez I can jedge. 
The country's gone clean daft ; 

They aint no sense ner system now." 
An' Taft — jes' laughed. 

Sez I to Taft, "I'm not the sort that sits up an* allows 

Jes' cause I'm not arunnin' things, they've gone to the 

bow-wows ; 
But look the matter in the face : 

We're plumb et up with graft ; 
They aint no honesty these days." 

An' Tsift — jes' laughed. 

Sez I to Taft, "Them plutycrats has got us by the neck; 
They'll never give the poor a show to reach the 
upper deck. 



62 



The thing we need's a man with sand, 

To grab hold at the haft 
An' show them plutyaats what's what." 

An' Taft — jes' laughed. 

Sez I to Taft, " Not meanin' to be pessimistic, Bill, 
It aint no joke, this job that you're a fixin' fer to fill ; 

You're goin' to be the captain 
Of a mighty leaky craft." 

But say — they warnt no use to talk, 
Fer Taft — jes' laughed. 



63 



ON MR. G. B. SHAW. VEGETARIAN 

A most paradoxic^ crielzsche 
Whose wit was his salient fietzsche, 

Remarked, " Since I've taken 

To eschewing bacon, 
I find I can now digest Nietzsche! " 



64 



HIS UNLUCKY DAY 

Wunst I got mad at maw, 

I don't remember why. 
But I *ist walked right off to school 

*Thout tellin' her good-by. 

A big oF lump came in my throat 
An' purt' near made me cry, 

Fer me an' maw is awful pals 
An' alius kiss good-by. 

An* might near ever-thing I did 
Went wrong, looked like to me ; 

1 stubbed my toe, and tore my waist. 
An* fell an* skinned my knee. 

I missed in 'rithmetic, an* lost 
A chanst to git up head. 



65 



An' in the spellin class I left 
A letter out of "dead." 

An' that ol' lump growed, an' I says 
"S'pose if my maw should die 

Right now, an' me a-Ieavin' her 
'Thoul kissin' her good-by." 

Gee ! That's the longes' momin' 
'At I ever spent, I know. 

It seemed like more'n fifty years 
'Fore it was time to go.. 

An' never mind what happened 
When I seen my maw, but I 

'1st bet I won't go 'way no more 
'Thout kissin' her good-by. 



66 



THE CANDY SHOP 

Over the way from the school it stood, 

The candy shop of the olden days. 
When the big bell rang for recess time 

You gave small thought to your childish plays. 
But grasping tight in your little fist 

The precious penny, you quickly ran 
With the laughing, eager, jostling throng. 
To the shop of the little old candy man. 

"Nov^ stop, don't push," (can't you hear him still ?) 

"Ye'll each of ye jes' have to wait yer turn." 
(It seems as tho' it were yesterday) 

"Looks like you young *uns '11 never learn ! " 
With grimy hands on the show-case ledge. 

Tip-toe you clambered and tried to see 
Of that wondrous array behind the glass 

Which of the treasures your choice would be. 



67 



First, the chocolate mouse with its beady eyes, 

Oh ! but it furnished splendid fun. 
When you poked it under some *fraid cat's nose 

And watched her wiggle and squeal and run. 
Then the licorice shoe strings two for a cent, 

They were the thing if you liked to chew 
And "spit terbacker like growed up men," 

You got such a lot for your money too. 

There were peppermint hearts — they were meant for Her, 

Bearing in letters of scarlet hue 
The olden verses, "The rose is red — *' 

Or the blushful legend " I love you." 
And farther back in the case you spied. 

Near the candy egg in its little tin dish, 
The cocoanut bar — O lost delight ! 

And the graceful form of the gum-drop fish ! 

"It's your turn next," said the little old man, 
A kindly note in his wheezy voice. 



68 



"So speak up quick — now what'll you have?'* 

And he reached for a bag while you made your choice. 

The case you eyed with a lingering glance, 
It was hard to tell what you really did wish, 

The peppermint heart with its legend red, 
Or the cocoanut bar — or the gum-drop fish ! 

Past, long past, are those childish joys. 

You re a Worldly Wiseman and quite bleise, 
Your pampered palate demands no less 

Than Swiss confections and French glace, 
Yet oft, of the bygone days you dream. 

When grasping the precious coin you quickly ran 
With the laughing, eager, jostling throng 

To the shop of the little old candy man ! 



69 



A MYSTERY EXPLAINED 

*Ere*s a funny thing *at happens 

When I wake 'way in the night, 
'An' lay a-listenin' fer the clock 

To tell ef 'tain't mos' light. 
No matter ef I stay awake 

Fer — well I guess a year. 
It's nothin' but the ol* half pasts 

'S all I ever hear. 

'Tisn't only just our clock 

'At acts so very queer, 
It's ever* other clock besides 

In town an' ever' where. 
I ast my Pa about it, 

An' he studied fer a while 
An' nen he said, " I guess that clock 

Jes' needs a little ile." 



70 



But after Pa was gone, my Ma 

She took me on her knee 
An' tol* me all about it — 

(She 'splains ever' thin' to me) 
She says 'at after twelve o'clock 

The hours has a ball. 
An' all the halves they stay at home 

'Cause they're like me — too small. 

An' so's the folks what owns the clock 

Won t s'pec' *at nothin's wrong, 
The halves they keep the strikin* up 

While all the hours is gone. 
An' 'bout the time the little hands 

A-creepin' round to four 
They come a softly slippin' 

Through the key-hole in the door. 

An* run up to their places 
Without a mite o' sound. 



71 



And not a soul could ever tell 
How they'd been dancin' round. 

Some night I'm goin' to stay awake 
An* stuff the key-hole. Oh ! 

But wouldn't it be lots of fun 
To scare the hours so ! 



72 



A SAD STORY 

WunstJ went on a picnic to 

The woods where the big creek runs thoo. 

An* my maw went along an' she 

Jes set there an' took care of me. 

No other feller s maw was there. 
Mine said she guessed they didn't care 
An' didn t have no hearts, but she — 
Well, she thought more'n that of me. 

The other boys went in to wade ; 
But cause my maw was so afraid, 
I had to set an' watch while she 
Stayed round there an' took care of me. 

"Don't take your shoes an' stockin's off," 
Ma said, *'er else you'll have a cough, 
An' I can't have my nerves upset 
By you out there a-gettin' wet." 



73 



I had to stand around an* see 
Them boys a-sniggering at me, 
Er play ol' sissy games with girls — 
I might as well wore skirts an* curls. 

Maw says boys never *preciate 
Their payrents till it's all too late ; 
She says I'll thank her lots some day. 
But I can't see it jes' that way. 

When I'm a paw an' have a son 
I bet I'll let him have some fun, 
An* if I have to go to law 
He shan't be pestered by his maw ! 



74 



WHEN PA FERGOT 

Onct I was walkin' along 'ith Ma and Pa, 

'N' stumped my toe. 
It jus' knocked tears up in my eyes, 

It hurted so. 
An' 'fore I had a bit o' time to think 

A word hopped out 
'At I thought Ma 'n Pa'd never quit 

A-talking 'bout. 

It wasn't nothin but "Doggone," 

But Pa he said 
Ef I don't stop ril never go to heaven 

When I'm dead. 
'N' all the time he talked to me 

Ma looked so sad 
'At I don't never want to use 

No words what's bad. 



75 



To-day when Pa was workin* in the house, 

A-hammerin a sack 
Down on the kitchen floor for Ma, 

He went to strike a tack, 
*N' hit his thumb what's sore instead, 

' N' what you think he said ? 
Wy jus' what I did when I hurt my toe, 

' N'en his face turned red. 

*N* I jus' laughed right out, but Ma 

She never smiled. 
She said to Pa : " You've got no room 

To scold that child 
Fer things you say yourself ! " 

'K I jus' bet 
My Pa won't lecture me no more 

When I forget. 



76 



"MY MAW" 

Talk 'bout smart, w'y I jus' bet 
My maw's the smartes' woman yet. 
W*y she can make mos' anything 
With tacks 'n hammer an' a string. 

Las' Summer we went campin' out, 
'Cause paw he didn't feel so stout. 
An* say, I wish you could 'a seen 
Our place when it was fixed n clean ! 

Maw turned a box into a bed. 
With little ruffles at the head. 
An' made a table from a tub, 
An' used a bookcase for the grub. 

The sofy where our callers sat 
Was where the dirty clothes was at. 
An' maw jus' made mos' ever'thing 
With lacks *n hammer an' a string. 



77 



I've saw men do things on the stage, 
They called 'em "Wonders of the Age," 
But they can't touch my maw you bet, 
Fer she's the greatest conjurer yet. 



78 



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